Hello everyone. I'm posting a bit later than I usually would but I hope you still see this. This poem was originally inspired by a project that I started on Earth day. It was really difficult to write at first because The words wouldn't flow the way I had wanted them to. I still feel as if my writing is a but stiff but I promise I'm working hard everyday to get better. Once again, please be paitent with me in my absences. I'm not leaving, and I don't plan to anytime soon. So, please enjoy what I have prepared for you today. Thank you so much everyone for your constant support. It was such a heartwarming thing to see all the warm comments you left on my last post. I'll try not to disappear for that long again. I still have a few poems that I still have yet to publish here so expect even more poetry. If you'd like, leave a bit of feedback for me so I can see how much progress I've made. Once again, thank you so much everyone. I promise I'll write again soon~
Good evening everyone, I know I seem to go on long breaks a lot more often than I used to. This world has been driving me mad and I can't write under thease stains, I can't concentrate on poetry when my minds a mess, please forgive me. I've written a lot more on my own but I promise I haven't left. If Anything, I've been trying to figure out how to write again. How to create a string of words, without being cliche or too much like the others. It's a funny thing to look back at your old posts and to realise how much you've changed. How much you've given yourself permission to be free, not putting yourself in a box. There's been so many things that have happend while using Mirakee, so many wonderful people who've supported me. It's something perhaps, too many take for granted. I want to write a book someday, out of all thease poems that I have, and perhaps, become an author of some sort. I don't know how many people would still bother to read poetry (Or read ANYTHING for that matter) but nevertheless, I will still try. Forgive me for the rambling and perhaps to most people, constant gibberish. I hope that perhaps someone will find something meaningful hidden within this. If you'd like, give me feedback on what I can do to improve, however harsh it may be Thank you so much for your constant support.
This poem I wrote was inspired by a song that I was listening to. "Ne me quitte pas" (do not leave me) is a song written by a Belgian chansonnier named Jacques Brel. When this song was written, it was at a time when Brel's mistress, threw him out of her life. She was pregnant with his child and because Brel refused to acknowledge it was his, she later had an abortion. Brel wrote this piece, not as a love song, but as a hymn to "the cowardice of men" and the levels they were willing to stoop, to keep the woman they love. Jacques Brel did acknowledge however, that he understood why women would feel pleasure assuming this was a love song.
I had walked along A silver lake When her eyes Had met with mine Peering into The reflection of my past And in an instance There was laughter From a family of five They surrounded a table Of home cooked meals With an aroma Dancing through the room There were children Laughing Playing around The table As if tomorrow Wouldn't come There was warmth An immense warmth That traveled From one heart to the other Music playing in the background Slow dances among the lovers The romances And There was I That child Sitting amongst the masses With gleaming eyes It was there That the last memory of my grandmother took place It was there That I listened To her stories Memories That she had When she was a girl And in a instant She was gone In the reflection Of my past I look back With Dewey eyes Forever Reminded Of my innocent life And although much time had passed Since those fateful days I pray that these moments in time Are sealed Within The depths Of my heart Forever...
I sincerely apologize for the constant inactivity I'm still catching up on a few things and my rhythm seems to be a bit out of place. I suppose I need a bit of time to myself. I've been trying to write more but at the same time I've also been dealing with life and family issues and just constantly unsure of where my life is going. I don't know I'm going to do but I know I'll figure our something I've missed writing very much and I hope to continue to tell stories. Any who, thank you all once again for your support.❤ I will definitely try to find time to start writing again. Please be patient with me❤ ~thank you❤❤
Once again, Apologies for the inactivity lately. I've been going to school and just catching up on a few things. I've also had a bit of a writer's block, so I haven't been writing much. I would get back to it in a little bit though. Thank you❤❤
The heart rested, deep down the collar, throbbing rough. It yearned to break off from the crimson manacles and the hollow ribs. Statistically, it was best for me to give up, on my tarnishing instincts. I D I D (Pretending to be hopeful) 'N T. A fish can never give up on swimming, it's niche doesn't allow it to do so, once it wasn't adapt to it. But it had to survive, adapt and evolve. Rest is history, life began from the sea. (Atleast that's what the myth narrates)
Crux of the tedium was to find a sanctum, a haven, to cache my bliss, away from infectious sorrows and torment pandemics. I vowed to protect it, from all masked satans. My search B E G (The pretence ensues) A N First, I hid my volumes of happiness in my eternally smiling doll. Rosy cheeks, sapphire eyes, golden hair, dressed in peace-radiating shreds. A kindred spirit, by my side, when I laughed at my swapped shoes or cried after the bullies pinched my soul. Grated into nylon yarns when anger took over for its first. It was to be replaced.
After losing smidgen bliss, another refuge for hiding my bliss came in existence. People tend to tremble like a mellow leaf during a squall, from their shadows. They gobble your identity, an addition to their stygian silhouette.
I found solace in it. It travelled with me when sun glared at my breath. When the moonburn, gradually tore my skin, it was there, with me, just to leave me again when lights drove off. Shattered, A G A ( Optimism's facade fades) I N. With skosh glee as residue,others evaporated, as rain from dry sand. I blindfold my senses, skipping the fact that the bruises over my heart have made it porous, leftover faith flowing out. Insecurities, a catalyst to this reaction.
I stumble over a water fountain, its water, splashing, a sudden peace to a heterogeneous mind. It's cool slap on my face, bringing me back to present as I sobbed over blurry past. It stored my bliss, camouflaging with it's blue hues safely, to my relief. Different colours of lights of the fountain, different wavelengths, shades of my moods. I related much, sitting by it's edge, praising elysian night, moon, stars, saving me from succumbing to loneliness.
Night goes by, ending my solivagant bliss. The water fountain no more, destroyed by so-called civilisation developers. No place to store my iota glee in. I decided to store it in my smile. I've too less to lose. I rarely S M I L E.
I laid her as if arrayed to the ground , her luscious body elevated making not one sound. and's I stood like a child in hound. my eyes began animation, because my heart was been captivated. I was watching my stem, her thorns that gave dimension, making my complete rose, and in the end my total lost. was momentous it felt enchantingly gravitational. soundless but emotional.
I thought i was one touching ground. but that was not possible i could see all around. but she never looked down, really only locked out, and only lucked out. For somewhere she found and was founded.. feeling fine sky flying higher forgetting about a sayer. one that came not too mayor but love and pleasure...
intuition been interrupted taking a shot is now taken for granted colours that lead to clues. clues that don't lead to you.
with the charcoal hair and high pitched giggles you reside inside me, as i see my hands trembling i always try my best to water my window plants with a can full of holes
oh we've all been there
i am like the little boy who lives down the street scribble his best plans in charcoal like Brunelleschi then throwing them in the fireplace shhhh no one will ever see
see it evanescence, like every last dream
or like an old woman who has seen nine lives sitting at her kitchen table she can't confront her inner ghosts anymore because they hide where her arm can't reach as her partner used to lift all the heavy things
so why bother cloaking?
yes you with your messy kitchen yes you with your dusty keys yes your with your demanding job and you with your sawdust dreams may be we are miles apart but you live right next to me
we are all living together on writer's block
i agree that the drains are clogged the chimneys are smoked and the whole of us are broken or broke
get it out, let it go
isn't it beautiful? the little speck of hope you find on the sidewalk of writer's block.